Life Is Like A Box of Chocolates
by de yaten
Summary: ... you never know what you're going to get. One series, five pairings. Common to possible wtfery. Ranges from fluffy and sweet to dark and disturbing. :: Knives/Legato, Milly/Legato, Rowan/Mary, Conrad/Knives, Midvalley/Wolfwood ::
1. Significant Other :: knivesXlegato ::

Title: Significant Other

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: Knives/Legato. Mangaverse with Legato's past.

Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun or its characters.

* * *

Legato kneeled in front of Knives, his head and eyes lowered in reverence. Knives was casually sitting on the windowsill, leaning against the glass with his legs propped on a desk.

Legato spoke without looking up.

"I believe it's called Valentine's Day, Master."

"Valentine's Day," Knives said, his face passive.

"Yes, Master. It was an old Earth holiday, although its origin is no longer known. It is supposed to be a day for couples to celebrate their... love."

Knives snorted at the word. "Ridiculous."

Legato nodded, and said nothing.

"And what," Knives continued, "do couples do to celebrate their _love_?" He both sneered and smiled at the last word, unable to decide whether to be repulsed or amused by the human notion.

"Gifts, Master. They give gifts. Jewelry, new clothing, candy, or chocolates..." His eyes focused more at the last word, no doubt recalling that it had been several hours since his last meal. "Sometimes friends buy each other gifts as well. Or family members. Anyone who can be considered a... significant other."

"I see." Knives clasped his hands together and gazed directly at Legato, deep in thought.

There were several minutes of silence, and Legato neither moved nor looked up as Knives continued to stare at him.

"And you have gotten me nothing for this Valentine's Day?"

Legato made a noise between a gasp and a stutter, and for the first time, looked up.

"Aren't I considered a significant other?"

"... Master?" The kneeling man said, unsure at this strange development.

Knives stood, and continued. "I rescued you from the life that those disgusting spiders imposed upon you. I took you in, healed you, trained you. I gave you knowledge of mankind's many sins, the sins used against you and the countless others. Because of me, you are a fraction higher than the rest of the garbage on this planet. You are _tolerable_ to me. That would make me a significant other, would it not?"

Legato smiled, and chided himself for the swell of pride he felt at Knives' words.

"...t-thank you, Master. You have done so much for me, and I have done so little for you. I am unworthy. I am imperfect."

"Yes, I know." Knives walked around the desk and opened the large bottom drawer. "But..." he drew the word out, watching Legato's subtle reaction."I suppose there is no harm in giving you my gift." He carried a simple brown bag over to Legato, and kneeled next to him. Legato took the gift with shaking hands, and only unwrapped it when Knives gave the silent okay.

Inside the bag was a irregularly wrapped object, covered in leftover newspapers with bits of tape here and there. He undid the bindings carefully, and tried not to wonder if it was the first time his Master had wrapped a gift, in case Master was listening to his thoughts.

Golden eyes widened a bit as the paper fell away to reveal a human skull - odd, misshapen, with a small pig like nose and something wrong about the sides, where ears would have been if it wasn't stripped to the bone already. It was familiar, very familiar, and it alternatively sent chills of fear and a sick sense of pleasure up his spine.

"Do you recognize him?"

Legato shook his head, blue hair shifting with the motion. "No, Master."

Knives gave Legato a patronizing smile. "It's the leader of the slave ring that held you. The one who was sliced in half as he violated you, probably intending to kill you after he was finished."

Tears, unbidden, stuck to Legato's cheeks. He lowered his head to hide the all-too-human response.

"... I do not deserve such a gift, Master."

"Yes, I know. But I've decided that your current uniform is a bit boring to me. It needed some... how do the humans put it? Ah, yes. It needed a bit of _flair_."

With that, Knives began to walk out of the room, and Legato savored each echoing footstep.

It was the first and last Valentine's Day gift he ever received.


	2. Chocolates :: millyXlegato ::

Title: Chocolates

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: MillyxLegato. AU in which Legato survived, takes place after the series.

Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun or its characters.

* * *

"Happy Valentine's Day, Legato-san!"

Milly grinned, and waited for Legato to open her gift. She had been wary when Vash took in the injured man - who, by all rights, should have been dead - but decided quickly after his awakening that he just needed some good old TLC to help him recover. His occasional threats to give her an unimaginably painful death when his powers came back did little other than earn him a "good talking-to," as she put it once.

Legato stared at the girl before him, beaming with that ever-present, infernal smile. Her mousy brown hair framed her face in a way that only made her look more childlike and naïve. Yes, she was very naïve, Legato decided, almost painfully so for daring to sit so close to him. What if his powers suddenly came back? Or he decided to kill her with his bare hands? (Well, hand. Vash's arm had mysteriously gone missing in the time between unconsciousness and awakening to green eyes and a concerned smile.)

He relented, hoping it would make her go away, and undid the carefully-wound ribbon around the simple white box. She had probably gotten him something silly and sentimental, he mused, as females were prone to do.

The contents caused his stomach to unconsciously growl. Inside were an array of chocolates, save for a few empty spots, and he looked at Milly with a small accusatory glare.

"Is it customary for you to give away your leftovers as gifts?"

Milly only smiled wider.

"Oh, no, Mr. Legato! I only ate the coconut ones. Vash said you were allergic, so I didn't want to take any chances!"

Legato snorted and looked away for a minute, before pushing the box towards her.

"Would you care to share?"

The ensuing tackle-hug knocked both the Legato and the chocolates to the floor.


	3. The Ring :: rowanXmary ::

Title: The Ring

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: Rowan/Mary. Takes place during an undetermined period while on the ship. Not romantic.

Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun or its characters.

* * *

Mary held out the glittering ring - diamond, maybe, though how he managed to sneak it onto the ship and hide it for so long, she didn't know.

"Oh, Rowan! It's beautiful!"

He smiled, and pushed his glasses further up his nose. "So you like it?"

"Of course, but..." She paused, and cleared her throat. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt his feelings, since they were going to be working together until a suitable new Earth could be found. "It's just that I didn't get anything for you, and I couldn't possibly accept such an expensive gift from a _friend_." She placed the ring back in still-outstretched hand.

"Oh," he said plainly, before turning around to hide his face.

(Mary had rejected him enough times to know that his brow was knitting together, and his cheeks becoming a fine tint of red. If he didn't walk away in the next few moments, tears would be welling up in his eyes. He would adjust his glasses, wipe at them, and complain about the dry air on the ship.)

He began walking away, and Mary saw him adjust his glasses quickly.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Mary."


	4. Wanting :: conradXknives ::

Title: Wanting

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: Omigod, this came out of nowhere. I meant to write a Bill Conrad piece for my Gunsmoke Shuffle drabble series, but then I decided I would let it be over 100 words because I couldn't cut it down, and somewhere along the way it became Bill/Knives and I decided to convert it to a V-day fic. Mangaverse. The "typo" near the end is not a typo.

Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun or its characters.

* * *

Bill Conrad had rarely wanted for anything.

Especially after waking up on Gunsmoke to explanations of _The Big Fall _and the swift passage of time since he was last conscious. His plant expertise quickly secured him a life that was comfortable, luxurious, and just a tad boring. It also secured him a new life as a doctor slave of Knives.

Knives, who hunted him down on a moonlit night, and crushed his former life with a few words and a few less-than-subtle threats.

Bill did admit that working for the Plant had a few perks. His old employer hadn't been above making him work double shifts purely because he was too cheap to hire a new technician. The gold rings on the greasy fingers told Bill that he could certainly afford another technician, if not an entire team. Plant technicians were rich, but the _owners_ of the Plants were beyond wealthy.

Knives, however, often forced the doctor to stop his work and rest.

"Human bodies are disgustingly frail, and I want you running at full capacity when you help my Sisters."

The first time he was given such an order, and explanation, Bill's weariness had let his thoughts glide to Knives easily: _I didn't think you had __such __a soft spot for me… _Knives had swiftly knocked him against a wall, and Bill looked up expecting to be hit further for his comment. He definitely hadn't expected to hear Knives _chuckle_ and smile at him. It made the doctor thoroughly terrified.

It was the eyes that did it, he thought later. For someone bent on the genocide of an entire species, Knives smiled an awful lot.

He smiled when the doctor gaped at a pile of double dollars left on his bed one Valentine's Day - "Make sure you stock up on medical supplies. And I suppose you can buy something for yourself, as well. Maybe a new hat?" - and he smiled when he invited the Doctor to his quarters later on to share a drink, though Knives didn't even touch the expensive, almost-impossible-to-find wine that was poured.

Knives did not smile at first when they later found themselves entangled in the silk bed sheets, with Knives calculating when he should kiss and when he should bite and when a simple touch sufficed, but the smile appeared when he managed to make the doctor break his calm façade and grip the bed sheets in ecstasy (then shame, then fear, when he felt a thick angel-blade pressed against him.)

But no matter how wide or pleasantly Knives smiled, his eyes remained passive. Empty.

Bill Conrad had rarely wanted for anything. But now he wants, desperately, for those blue eyes to look as they had years ago, when they first met - wide, innocent, kind, and warm with real tears.

Those eyes were hard now. Harsh and icy and unforgiving and often stark-raving mad because of the crew's single sin, Tessla – little Tessla strapped down and toothless and aware of nothing but pain.

Yes, Bill Conrad had rarely wanted for anything.

But now he only wants Knives to, maybe-please-won't-you-listen, give up his dreams of murder and blood and metal, and leave behind the endless parade of mass murderers and freaks to live with only him. And maybe Vash, if Vash could be persuaded to come without more slaughter.

"I'll stay with you," the doctor says, after Knives' hair has begun to darken and it will only go downhill from there.

But he knows the second that Knives asks the transvestite about Vash that he is dead, because Vash is important and Bill Conrad is nothing to Knives. And the words that first night after they both smelled like sex but only one of them was bleeding come to him in cuts, "I hate you, you're worthless, you're not Vash."

The impossibly sharp Knives come swiftly after and his last thoughts are the taunting echoes of words he spoke to the Plants once, before The Big Fall, before Knives went mad, before the brothers ever discovered Tessla.

"_If you can love someone with all your heart, then it's all right. … Let's walk on together." _


	5. Sweet Cigarette :: wolfwoodXmidvalley ::

Title: That Sweet Cigarette

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: Wolfwood/Midvalley, Wolfwood/Vash implied, Legato/Midvalley implied and mentioned. It came out a big darker, and much longer, than I originally intended but I'm pretty satisfied with it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun or its characters.

* * *

The two men were sitting on the edge of a cliff, watching the suns set, although neither was really paying attention to the picturesque skyline in front of them.

"We said we weren't going to get each other anything, Middie." A cigarette lay precariously at the edge of his mouth, almost burnt to his lips, and his sand-worn hands pushed against the small box presented to him.

"Yeah, I know." Midvalley dropped the present in Wolfwood's lap, and turned to watch the suns setting.

"Hey."

Midvalley turned, and chuckled softly when he saw the priest holding a plain giftbox in his hand.

"We said we weren't going to get each other anything, Wolfy."

"Yeah, I know." A pause. "And don't ever call me _Wolfy_again."

Another chuckle. "Duly noted. So," the brunette took the box, "should we open them at the same time or what?"

Wolfwood shrugged. "Might as well."

At the count of three, both men opened their respective gifts. They stayed silent for a while, before Wolfwood tossed aside what was left of his cigarette and lit one of the vintage-Marlboro's that Midvalley gave him.

"You're not going to smoke all of them in one night, are you?" A joking smile.

"Naw," Wolfwood said, taking a long drag. "I figure they'll last longer if I only smoke these when we can get together."

Calloused hands fingered the gifted antique glass mouthpiece."It seems like that's less and less these days."

"Most of the Guns are dead." A matter-of-fact statement that neither of them dwelled on.

"And you're almost always with Vash." A thinly veiled jealous remark – jealous, because Midvalley saw the Wanted posters and Wolfwood said, once, that he had a thing for blondes. "Have you been_ with_ him since last time?"

"Yes." A punch, a punch returned, and they were scuffling on the harsh rock ground on top of sand and dirt and a discarded, burning cigarette.

Dramatic, but there were fewer and fewer things to be dramatic about when the other Guns were gone and you were simply waiting for your suicide order to be issued.

Wolfwood rubbed at a darkening black eye and tried to look casual. "It's not any different than you and Bluesummers, is it?"

Midvalley nursed a similar wound and grimaced. "When he fucks me, I'm thinking about you. Can you honestly say the same thing about you and Vash?"

"I guess not."

Wolfwood stands and begins walking away, but only makes it a few steps before he's yanked backwards by rough hands and thrown down on his back. Midvalley bites and kisses harshly, and Wolfwood returns them twofold because by now, it's all part of the routine. (Meet, talk of death, of Vash and Legato, fight, walk away, and some way or another, end up sweaty and smelling like sex and cigarettes.)

The saxophone player licks his lips and pulls away. "You taste like cigarettes."

Wolfwood grins, despite the throbbing of his eye. "Thanks."

They kiss again, and don't speak for the rest of the night, because it might be their last and they would've hated for their last words to be anything more or less poetic.

Midvalley learns of Wolfwood's death while entangled in silk sheets and sprawled on his stomach with the numberless leader taking him roughly. Legato, voice saccharine as ever, tells him they found an old Marlboro stuck in Wolfwood's mouth. Both the words and Legato's treatment hurt, but they both knew it was coming and he tries not to dwell on it.

Later, when his saxophone is crooning death songs towards Vash, he wishes he could just kill the blonde and be done with it. Knives wants him alive, but for the first time, Midvalley could care less what the Plant wanted. The only thing he could take now was his life. But Wolfwood, he knows, wouldn't have wanted Vash to be killed either. And it's only this thought that forces him to turn his weapon on himself and tumble to the ground in pieces.


End file.
